Can We Talk?
by Christy O'Neal
Summary: Spike finally gets Buffy to talk to him, now he can’t shut her up! Challenge response.


**Title:** Can We Talk?

**Author:** Christy

**Rating:** PG

**Feedback:** Yes!  Live for it.

**Email:** moneal@poboxes.com

**Distribution:** If you want it, it's yours.  Just let me know where it is going.

**Disclaimer:**  Joss owns everything.  I own nothing, not even a Spike action figure.

**Summary:**  Spike finally gets Buffy to talk to him, now he can't shut her up!  Challenge response, original challenge is at the bottom.

"Buffy, we need to talk."  Spike said, hating the pleading that he heard in his voice.  He knew it made him seem weak.  He couldn't help it, where Buffy was concerned, he was weak.

"Dammit Spike!  Talking isn't going to change anything."  Buffy replied while pulling on her clothes.  "This is it, this is all there is.  Why can't you be happy with it?  You're getting what you want."

"What I want?  This isn't even close to what I want."

Buffy was dressed and climbing the ladder to the upper level of the crypt.  Spike let her go.  He was too tired of this constant fighting to go after her.  After she was gone, Spike looked around the bedroom they had once again trashed with their passion.  He sighed.  I need to get out of here, everything reminds me of her.  He decided to go to the Bronze and drink himself into oblivion.

He was sitting on a couch in the corner, nursing a beer.  Once he arrived at the Bronze, he realized he wasn't in a drinking mood.  He wanted to brood, over Buffy.  No wonder the poof was so broody, he thought.  It wasn't his guilt over all those people he killed, it was Buffy.  She could drive any man to brood.

He was so deep in thought he didn't notice the person approaching until she sat down next to him.  "Tara, what are you doing here?" He asked, more abruptly than he meant to.

"Ah, sorry Spike.  I'll go.  Just thought you might want someone to talk to.  You look . . ."

Spike interrupted her.  "No, Tara, I'm sorry.  Stay. Please."  After Tara had found out about him and Buffy, Spike had discovered she was a really good listener.  She didn't judge.  She didn't think he was an evil thing.  She actually supported him.  She was a friend, and he really needed one of those right now.

"So, why the glumness?  No, let me guess, Buffy."  Spike nodded, looking like a little boy who had dropped his ice cream cone.  "Has something happened?"  Tara asked.

"No, that's just it.  Nothing has happened.  Nothing has changed.  She still won't let me in, she won't talk to me."

"What do you want to talk about?  Something important?"

Spike leaned forward resting his elbows on this knees.  He placed his head in his hands, gripping his hair.  He held that position while he answered her.  "I want to talk about everything.  Her job, Dawn, the damn Scoobies, her feelings.  Us.  All of it.  I want all of her, not just her body, I want her mind to.  I just want her to let me in."

"I'm so sorry Spike.  I know how much you love her.  I wish there was something I could do to help."

"You are helping Tara.  By listening to me and being a friend to Buffy.  She needs someone right now and I'm glad you're there for her."

"Always Spike.  Well, I have homework to do. You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah, the big bad will be ok."  As Tara walked away, he whispered, "I hope."

Tara blew out the candles and leaned back against the couch.  Doing spells always made her tired, she didn't get a rush from them like Willow.  "Well Spike, I hope this is really what you want, because you are about to get it."

He was watching the telly, when the crypt door flew open.  He jumped up…Buffy, of course.  "Can't you ever knock like decent people?"

"Spike, we need to talk," the words came out in a rush.

Spike tilted his head and looked at her quizzically.  "That so luv?"

"Yeah, I have so much to tell you.  So many things to talk about."

"OK, I'm all ears."  Spike said, but Buffy wasn't listening, she was already talking.

"My job sucks, the customers are annoying.  Most of them are fat and don't really need to be eating there.  Does this outfit make me look fat?  My new boss, the woman, she's pretty cool I guess.  But she is always getting on my case about not serving the customers fast enough.  I serve you fast enough, don't I?  You always seem pleased.  She's a jerk, but I need a job.  So I can keep Dawn.  And speaking of Dawn, she's been stealing, and sneaking out, and coming in late.  What am I going to do with her?

Spike was trying to keep up, trying to answer her questions and be supportive.  But she wasn't even pausing to breath.  The words were just coming.  The longer she spoke, the faster they came.

"Dawn is making me crazy.  I try to get close to her and she pushes me away, and then she gets mad at me for being gone too much.  I can't win with her.  This must be how you feel with me.  It sucks doesn't it?  I painted my toenails today, wanna see?  Damn, I have a run in my hose.  These things aren't cheap.  Might as well take them off, they're ruined.  See my toes.  What do ya think?  Pretty sexy, huh?  Why don't you paint your nails anymore?  Not that I mind, can't have my boyfriend going around with fingernail polish on.  It's pretty girly.  Although Oz wore black polish and it was cool.  So, I guess you can wear polish if you want."

Spike tried to interrupt, "did you say boyfriend?"  But she didn't even hear him.  She was talking so fast now, he began to wonder if she was on speed.

"I miss Oz.  I wonder how he is.  Do you think he got the werewolf under control?  I'm glad Riley saved him from the Initiative.  It would have been so uncool if they had killed him.  Willow would not have been happy!  I wonder how Riley is?  It's funny, but I don't miss him.  Never really did.  I was upset I had ruined another relationship, but not really upset that he left.  I'm glad you showed me what he was doing.  Guess I never really thanked you for that did I?  You know, you're a pretty decent friend.  Always looking out for me.  And the sex, whoo!  No complaints there.  I talked to my grandma the other day.  She lives in Alabama, ya know.  I haven't talked to her in years.  She wants us to come visit her.  Do you think we should?  I can't really leave with my job and slaying and all.  Maybe I should send Dawn.  But then she'll probably just get mad that I'm trying to get rid of her.  Why couldn't the monks have put her in the body of a 6 year old?  Why did they have to make her a teenager?  It is so unfair….

She had to shut-up, he thought, my head is going to explode.  He decided to try her favorite trick for shutting him up.  He grabbed her and kissed her, hard, passionately.

She kept talking!  Her words were garbled because his tongue was in her mouth, but she kept talking.  He moved his hand down to her breast.

"Oh, that feels good.  You keep doing that.  So, my grandma has horses.  I love horses.  I always wanted a horse when I was a little girl.  I wonder why we didn't visit her more seeing as how she had horses and all.  Why are you stopping?  I guess it cost too much to fly there.  Have you been to Alabama?  I'm sure you've been all types of places.  I would love to travel with you.  You wanna meet my Grandma?  Where are you going?  I thought we were going to have sex?  Damn, I have grease in my hair.  I hate that job.  I so do not look good in orange, and the stupid hat makes my hair flat."

Spike was storming through the cemetery.  He had to get away from her and the incessant chattering.  She followed behind him like a puppy, talking away.

This is worse than the bloody bot, Spike thought. 

The challenge? Write a humor fic in which Spike finally gets Buffy   
to start talking to him, and then can't shut her up for anything.  
  
Requirements? Mention at least seven of the subjects of conversation   
in the lyrics to "I Want To Talk About Me" by Toby Keith.  
  
I really hope somebody will take me up on this. With all the darkness   
and occasional depression, a little levity is called for.  
  
-Lyrics to "I Want To Talk About Me" by Toby Keith  
  
We talk about your work how your boss is a jerk  
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts  
We talk about the troubles you've been having with your brother  
About your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover  
We talk about your friends and the places that you've been  
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin  
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose  
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes  
You know talking about you makes me smile  
But every once in awhile  
  
I wanna talk about me  
Wanna talk about I  
Wanna talk about number one   
Oh my me my  
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see  
I like talking about you you you, usually, but occasionally  
I wanna talk about me (me me me)  
I wanna talk about meEEee  
  
We talk about your dreams and we talk about your schemes  
your high school team and your moisturizer creme  
We talk about your nanna up in Muncie, Indiana  
We talk about your grandma down in Alabama  
We talk about your guys of every shape and size  
The ones that you despise and the ones you idolize  
We talk about your heart, about your brains and your smarts  
And your medical charts and when you start  
You know talking about you makes me grin  
But every now and then  
  
I wanna talk about me  
Wanna talk about I  
Wanna talk about number one   
Oh my me my  
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see  
I like talking about you you you, usually, but occasionally  
I wanna talk about me (me me me)  
I wanna talk about meeEEee  
  
You you you you you you you you youyouyouyouyou  
I wanna talk about me  
  
repeat chorus.


End file.
